


Crossed Wires

by TigStripe



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Little Flirts, M/M, accidental romance, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigStripe/pseuds/TigStripe
Summary: When Oliver relocates to Central City in pursuit of a dangerous criminal, Barry is ecstatic about being able to spend more time with him. As Team Flash helps the Green Arrow, unexpected feelings begin to arise, making everyone's job a little more difficult. Can Oliver bring the criminal to justice while managing to balance these new developments with Barry?





	1. Lending a Hand

“You got this, Barry, now bring it all home!” Cisco’s voice carried over the comms with a degree of excitement Barry hadn’t heard in ages, the rising energy and obvious grin shining through. The speedster stopped dead in his tracks, miles from his opponent, before about facing and rushing back the way he’d come. His trajectory was almost a straight line, bobbing back and forth between cars as they appeared.

As Barry closed in on his destination, he balled his fists, preparing for impact. With a flying charge, the Flash smashed an outstretched arm into the side of one surprised King Shark, sending the monstrous man-beast tumbling. He slammed hard into a concrete wall, rattling the chain-link fence atop it as debris fell to the ground around him.

There he remained, unmoving, his breathing deep.

“Did you get him?” The bell-like sound of Caitlin’s voice rang into Barry’s ear, issuing a grin from the superhero.

“Shark down,” Barry announced, taking a deep breath of his own. He leaned over for a moment, hands on his knees, trying to find his second wind. The two had been tussling for what felt like an eternity to the man, who was at a disadvantage in long, drawn-out fights.

Joe sounded far more official over the comms than he probably intended as he said, “Copy that. Let’s move in.” Police lights lit up the street a block away, signaling King Shark’s would-be captors’ approach. Barry turned on the spot and dashed away, not wanting to be present when the cops arrived.

Back at STAR Labs, the team had already begun celebrating. Cisco was leading Caitlin in an awkward learning rendition of “Baby Shark” while Iris and Harry watched, their laughter lighting up the room. As Barry entered the room, all eyes turned to him. Bright cheering ensued.

“Way to bash a beastie,” Cisco cried with a grin spread from ear to ear. He and Barry reared back, the sound of their high five crisp and clear. Inspired, even more cheering erupted.

Barry sat near Iris at the computer station, happy for the opportunity to relax. “Someone tried to contact us while you were in the field,” Iris informed him, handing over the team’s burner phone. Few people had access to that number - most were other superhero teams or family members.

The screen displayed a singular green arrowhead graphic, which told Barry almost everything he needed to know. “Oliver called. Did anyone answer?”

“He wants you to get in touch with him,” Caitlin said, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Something about needing your help with something. He was pretty vague. Par for the course for the Green Arrow, I suppose.”

Barry stood and headed toward the hallway. When he heard the laughter dying down, he turned to discover his team staring at him. “I’ll just be a sec,” he told them. “Please, more ‘Baby Shark.’ We haven’t heard enough of  _ that _ lately.” Chuckles reverberated through the rest of the group as Barry turned to have privacy in another room.

Two rings was all it took for someone to pick up on the other end. “Barry?” The sound was deep and strong. Barry smiled despite himself - it was always nice to hear Oliver’s voice.

“Hey, Oliver. Did you need my help with something?”

“I did. Thanks for getting back to me so fast,” Oliver replied.

“Fast is kinda what I do.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, which led Barry to laugh himself. “Right. I’ve been tracking someone for weeks now, but it seems that he’s hightailed it to Central City. We have reason to believe he’s looking to set up shop for good there.”

Barry’s eyebrows slid down, his eyes focusing on a single spot on the far wall. “What’s this guy’s name? I’ll bring him right back to you.”

When Oliver next spoke, Barry identified the inflection of a smile. “I appreciate that, but this one’s mine. I’m heading out your way tomorrow on the noon train to start looking for him.”

“A head’s up, Ollie? How polite of you. For once,” Barry sniped with a laugh. “So, what do you need from me? Or us?”

Oliver hesitated, which Barry was unaccustomed to. “I’ll probably be in Central City for a few days, hunting this guy down. He’s a master of disguise and has a lot of connections. He’ll have plenty of places to hide.”

“Oh, you need a place to hang out while you do your thing. I got you.” Barry shrugged, knowing full well Oliver couldn’t see it. “You can stay with me if you’d like.”

“No offense, Barry, but I’m going to need more space than your apartment. I’m bringing a fair amount of equipment with me.”

“Then we’ll put you up at STAR Labs, instead. We’ve got plenty of room and even have a place to sleep for you.” Barry considered this. “You’re probably not gonna sleep a lot while you’re here, are you?”

There was another soft laugh from the other end. “I won’t deny that I tend to get a little caught up in my hunts sometimes.”

Barry made a rude noise. “Felicity told me about the two-week stakeout.”

The line was silent.

“Oliver…”

“I swear, I had no idea I’d been awake that long. It was a rough job, okay?” His smile was clear in his tone.

“Sure. So, noon tomorrow? Need a hand with the equipment?”

“It’d be appreciated.”

“Great. I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks. And thank you, Barry. I’ll try to stay out of your hair.”

Barry shrugged again. He should probably stop doing that with phone conversations. “You couldn’t be in the way if you tried, Ollie. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

The call ended, leaving Barry with a content smirk on his face. He knew Oliver was on the job, but it might be nice to have him around for a while. They didn’t get to spend a lot of time together outside of their crusading, and the opportunity to be with a long-distance friend was always an exciting one.

As Barry headed back to the Cortex, he hummed “Baby Shark” to himself, not caring if anyone heard.

 

Oliver couldn’t have picked a better day to arrive in Central City. It was mid-April, with beautiful, clear skies and a modest breeze. People were comfortable in a wide variety of clothing, from sweaters to tank tops and everything in between. Barry himself stood in a light zip-up hoodie that day, content to keep the wind off of his arms. He stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of the train station, awaiting the noon train from Star City’s arrival.

Checking his watch, Barry realized the train was a few minutes late. Before he could look for an attendant, a stampede of people appeared from the loading platform, signaling the arrival of at least one passenger train. Barry’s eyes darted from face to face in the crowd, finally landing on-

Barry snorted a laugh.

Oliver struggled with a cart of boxes and other luggage, but Barry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man’s attire. He was adorned in cargo shorts, flip flops, and a palm tree-laden button up shirt, with a Starling City Rockets baseball cap and dark, reflective shades on his face. If they were lesser friends, Barry would likely have missed him entirely.

“Welcome to Aruba,” Barry called with a grin and a friendly wave as he approached Oliver and his cart.

There was a twitch of a smile on Oliver’s face, almost invisible. “Are you confused, Barry? This is Central City.”

“You look like you’re ready for a beach vacay,” Barry countered, lazily indicating the other man’s outfit.

“I needed to look the part for someone trying to get away.”

Barry’s eyebrows lifted and his lips formed a thin line as he nodded. “Nailed it.” Oliver struggled with keeping all his luggage on his cart, prompting Barry to catch a falling messenger bag from the top. “Is this everything?”

“If it isn’t, I can go back and get anything I missed.”

“Right. I’ve got an Uber waiting for us.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed and his nose twitched in disapproval. “Not a cab? Ubers always feel so hand-me-down.”

“Says the boy raised in a literal  _ mansion,  _ with manservants,” Barry replied, an eyebrow hitched. “This guy’s a friend of Cisco’s. Figured I would give him some business.”

There was a pause. Oliver nodded. “Okay, sure. To the Uber.”

STAR Labs was just a short skip across town from the train station, and before they knew it, they were unpacking the car onto loading dock at the lab. At some point, Cisco had appeared and pitched in. In a matter of minutes, all of Oliver’s things had been relocated to a small, empty lab a corridor down from the speed lab. Cisco helped by setting up the electronics while Barry and Oliver unpacked his Arrow equipment and civilian clothes.

Barry froze, staring down at a bag of essentials. “Ollie.” 

“Yeah?” Oliver continued to hang his shirts on a long costume rack on the far wall. What STAR Labs was doing with a costume rack, he had no idea.

Barry’s face scrunched up in concern. “I’m not seeing a toothbrush.” 

Oliver looked over at him, his eyebrows knitted close together. “Really?”

After checking the contents again, Barry shook his head. “Nope. But don’t worry, I’ll run out and grab one for you.”

“You don’t have to-”

There was a gust of wind as Barry vacated the room, leaving Cisco’s hair windswept in the process. Less than a minute later, he popped back into view, a sealed two-pack of toothbrushes in his hand and a toothy grin on his face.

Oliver chuckled as he took the package. “Thanks.” Barry’s grin widened a little before he turned back to the task at hand, still smiling.

“And you’re sure you don’t need any help finding this guy,” Cisco asked as he finished connecting a cable to Oliver’s setup.

“I appreciate it, but I’m doing this one myself,” Oliver replied. He stacked the empty bags and boxes in the corner for future use.

The sound of high heels announced Iris’s arrival long before she stepped into the room. Over her shoulder was a large purse that matched the skirt she wore. She stopped in the doorway and put a defiant hand on her hip. “Are we going, or what?” she demanded, eyes boring into Barry.

“Oh, right,” Barry muttered, mentally slapping himself. “The interview lunch.” He looked to Cisco and Oliver in turn. “You guys gonna be okay until we get back?”

Oliver’s body froze, his eyes darting from one box to another. He nodded. “Yup.”

“I’ll watch the fort,” Cisco said. “Who’s this interview with, again?”

“The one and only Cat Grant,” Iris said with a flourish of her wrist. Barry snorted a laugh, prompting Iris to sight. “Barry thinks it’s hilarious that we’re talking to someone he’s met on another Earth.”

“Who’s interviewing whom?” Oliver asked.

“I’m doing a cover exposé on her for a women’s empowerment blog,” Iris replied. “She’s  _ the _ most successful woman in multimedia, so getting this opportunity was a big deal for me. I’m surprised I managed to convince her to do this, but she says she took one look at  _ Shethority _ and knew it was something she wanted her name attached to.”

Oliver glanced over at Barry for a moment. “And Barry is going because?”

“He insisted.” There was a limp shrug from both Iris and Barry. “Said he knew how to ‘handle Cat,’ whatever that means. But we’re going to be  _ late _ at this rate, so let’s amscray, lightning boy.”

“Right. See you guys later,” Barry announced. He jogged over to Iris and walked her out of the room, leaving Oliver and Cisco to continue the unpacking process.

The rest of the afternoon went off without much incident; Oliver managed to unpack everything and, with a little help from Cisco, fully get his gear situated. He dove into his work soon after, locking himself away until long after Barry and Iris returned. With his weekend plans usurped by welcoming Oliver, Barry found himself sitting in the Cortex, somewhat bored with his feet propped up on a console until Caitlin walked by and smacked them down.

“Is he just going to sit in there all day?” Caitlin asked as she sat down next to Barry with a cup of coffee.

“Probably. You know how Oliver is.”

“That’s what worries me,” she admitted. She bit her lip and looked at the console in front of her. “It’s almost six. Should we make sure he’s okay?”

Barry sat up and shook his head. “I know he’d be grateful you’re looking out for him, but really, he’s fine. He’s a grown man.”

Caitlin’s eyebrows lifted as her eyes widened. “I’ll say.”

They shared a chortle before Caitlin began working on the computer. Barry mostly left her alone, only bothering her to share a couple of cute cat videos on his phone every now and then. Time passed with little excitement, leading Barry to believe that crime had given up on Central City.

Before he knew it, it was time for Barry’s patrol to start. He glanced down the hall leading to the speed lab and Oliver’s room. Cisco was already at the comms station, but Barry held up a finger for him to wait. He made his way to Oliver’s room and rapped on the door.

“Yeah?” Oliver sounded distracted, as Barry had expected.

“Can I come in? You won’t shoot me or flip me on my back, right?”

His guest laughed. “Sure. Come on in, Barry.”

Barry stepped into the room, eyes darting across computer screens and pushpin boards with scattered evidence posted. Oliver was at the computer, typing on something. When he noticed Barry, he looked up and gave an informal salute before continuing his typing.

“I’ll, uh, ask about all this some other time,” Barry suggested.

“Thanks. Kind of busy. What’s up?”

The younger man cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’d left this room at all yet.”

“I have not. Everything okay?” Oliver stopped typing and looked up at Barry, his eyes bright and open with interest.

Barry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little silly for interrupting now. “It’s nothing. Just, have you eaten yet?”

Oliver shook his head and returned to his typing. “I’ll eat later.”

“Ah.” And that was that? “Well, I’m about to head out on patrol. Just ask Cisco if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Barry turned to leave, but Oliver’s voice stopped him.

“Oh, Barry?”

Turning back to look at his guest, Barry saw there warm smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For setting this up. And for looking out for me.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Barry’s mouth as he nodded. “Sure, Ollie.”

Oliver returned to his computer once more as Barry exited the room, closing the door delicately behind him. With a soft sigh, he made his way back to the Cortex to suit up.

 

Some time had passed since Barry had been by before his patrol, and Oliver was still stooped over evidence and suspect lists. There was a gentle rapping at the door, causing Oliver to blink in confusion and look up. “Yeah?”

“It’s Barry.”

Oliver straightened his back with a bit of a grunt and made his way to the door, which he opened to reveal Barry, still in his Flash suit with his cowl down, his head lightly tilted to one side and his eyes locked onto Oliver’s. He held up a paper plate as an offering, piled high with chips, baked beans, and two hot dogs with all the fixings. “Cisco said you never came out.”

Barry pushed in past Oliver and placed the plate on the table next to the computer he’d seen Oliver plinking away at earlier that evening. Now that he wasn’t staring at a screen or stack of papers, there was an insistent pang of hunger in Oliver’s stomach. “Thanks, Barry.”

“I didn’t do it for thanks,” Barry replied. He crossed his arms and gazed hard at Oliver, his jaw set tight. “If you want to thank me, eat.”

“Everything okay? How did your patrol go?” Oliver asked, somehow a little nervous around such a serious expression.

“It was fine, other than the fact that you’d locked yourself away with no food and too much focus. I asked Cisco for hourly updates. Imagine my surprise when he told me you’d never left this room.” Barry’s voice was as stern as his eyes, which gave Oliver a sinking feeling in his gut.

Oliver approached the plate and took a chip, popping it into his mouth. It was savory - flavored with a tangy barbeque taste that made Oliver’s stomach gurgle before he even swallowed. Without even meaning to, he picked up a couple more chips as he addressed Barry. “I’m sorry. I got a little bogged down in here.”

“I know it’s important to you to catch this guy, but you can’t just ignore your own basic needs, Ollie.” Barry’s gaze had not yet let up, and it was making Oliver want to fidget.

“You’re right. I promise, I’ll set alarms to take breaks for myself.”

Finally, the steel in Barry’s eyes softened and he let his arms fall to his sides. “Good. I don’t want to have to be worried about someone who is perfectly safe.”

A smile tugged at Oliver’s face, but he suppressed it. “Worried about me, huh? Thanks.”

Barry gave a lazy shrug. “I worry about all my friends. Like it or not, you’re in that group.”

“Who said I didn’t like being fussed over?” Oliver asked with a laugh. “I mean it, Barry. Thank you for worrying.”

A light pink coloring filled Barry’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you at least get a decent lead on this guy?”

Oliver sighed and shook his head. “I’ll have to spend some time out in the city. Get a feel for things. Maybe even flex some undercover muscles.”

“Like your muscles are ever undercover,” Barry snickered. When Oliver just gave him a confused look, he cleared his throat. “If you need me or any of the team to help, you know what to do.”

“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Barry let himself give in to the smile he’d been holding back. “Sure. Tomorrow.” He brushed past Oliver, patting him on the shoulder as he went.

As the door closed at the other end of the room, Oliver looked down at the plate of food, a faint smile playing across his lips. As hungry as he was, he didn’t feel the need to rush into eating without first appreciating the thought put into the action. Barry had no obligations to him or his well being, yet he’d gone out of his way to look after him. Just the thought of it warmed Oliver’s chest and brought a smile to his face. 

He plopped himself down at the computer, taking the plate of food and raising it to his chest as he leaned back, idly observing the information on the screen before him. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Barry had his back, and that gave Oliver more confidence than he knew.


	2. Hunting Grounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry helps Oliver narrow down possible meeting sites for his intended target by playing tour guide. Later, the Flash assists the Green Arrow with an infiltration mission.

It was barely six in the morning when Barry was jarred awake by the vibrations of his phone on the nightstand. He grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the ringtone by shoving his head into a pillow, but his phone’s stubbornness was Oliver-tier. Barely capable of keeping his eyes open, Barry snatched the phone off the table and answered it, his voice raspy and dry. “What.”

“Good, you’re awake.” Oliver’s voice was bright and full, like he’d been up for hours. Which, Barry realized, probably wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’m not awake. I’m sleep talking,” Barry muttered, his face falling back onto his mattress in defeat. “Call again in three hours.”

There was a slight chuckle from the other end of the line. “You plan on sleeping until nine? What kind of cop are you?”

“The kind that likes his weekends. Goodbye, Ollie.”

“Wait.” It was weird how that single syllable stopped Barry’s thumb from hitting the “End” button. “I do actually need your help.”

Barry sighed and held the phone back up to his ear. “What do you need?”

“An escort.”

A rude noise caught in his throat. “Sorry? _You_ need an escort?”

“You know I’m looking for shady people, but I don’t know my way around Central City very well. You’ve been fighting crime here for a few years, so I bet you know where the seedier parts of town are.” Barry rolled his eyes. Oliver sounded so _smug._ He was so sure Barry would help.

“Get Cisco to do it.”

There was a short pause as Oliver considered this.  In that small period, Barry’s heart decided to rebel, pumping him full of regret. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

Before he knew what was happening: “Wait.”

There was silence as Barry took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll help. When do you want to take the grand tour?”

“I was hoping to do it sooner, rather than later. Is that a problem?”

Barry slowly nodded with a sigh. “Nah, no problem. Give me about half an hour and I’ll meet you in the Cortex. Sound good?”

When Oliver spoke, his smile shone through his tone. “Thanks, Barry. I really appreciate your help.” Barry ended the call and looked at his reflection in his phone’s screen. When did he start smiling, too?

 

The first stop on Barry’s tour was a small section of town that was known for a high number of robberies and gang activity. The idea of walking around in broad daylight in such a dangerous part of town didn’t appeal to Barry, but it wasn’t as if they were actually _in_ any danger. Barry was faster than a speeding bullet, after all.

Oliver was an exceptional tourist. He took nothing but photos on his phone of a variety of locales he considered noteworthy. He didn’t bother any locals, either, preferring to stick close to Barry and ignore everyone else around him. Despite their choice in destination, Barry could scarcely argue he was having a bad time walking around Central City with Oliver like this.

By three that afternoon, they’d visited five neighborhoods Barry considered to be “high risk” zones, based on the past three years or so of fighting crime. They stopped for a short break along the docks, taking in the higher breeze near the water, when Barry let out a chuckle.

“What’s up?” Oliver asked, leaning back onto a railing and surveying nearby foot traffic.

“I’d never stopped to think about it before,” Barry explained, “but a lot of the non-powered take downs I’ve been involved with happened in all these places I’ve shown you, but most of the metahuman encounters happen in other parts of the city.”

“That makes sense, though, doesn’t it?” Barry looked over at Oliver in curiosity. “Metahumans can act independently. They don’t need gangs or places to hide outside of, say, an apartment. They can attack higher profile targets without much planning or fuss.”

That did have a certain logic to it, Barry thought. He shrugged. “As long as they end up in jail, I don’t really care where I have to find them.” He threw a smirk at Oliver. “Ready for our next stop?”

“Actually, I’m getting kind of hungry,” Oliver admitted. “Know of any places around here that won’t kill us?”

Barry snickered. Like a bunch of restaurant thugs could take the Flash and the Green Arrow - Oh, right. He asked a question, didn’t he? “Actually, yeah. Seafood okay?”

Oliver’s eyes darted to the oversized lake, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun, then back to his friend. “That’s not the ocean, Barry.”

“It’s a pretty decent lobster joint not far from here,” Barry replied with a roll of his eyes. “I think they ship it from Boston or Maine or somewhere.”

Oliver tapped a finger on the railing, thinking. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Barry led him down the boardwalk to _Jada’s Tideshack._ They ordered local caught freshwater dishes to save money (especially since Barry ordered four entrées for himself) and Barry regaled Oliver with semi-related stories of his fights with King Shark.

“Why didn’t you just attach some high-voltage electrodes to him using projectile delivery systems and stun him?” Oliver asked, idly taking a bite of fish.

Barry opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Oliver grinned over at him.

“Oh, so now you know how to take down metahumans?” Barry bantered, crossing his arms in defiance. “I could mop up those gangs you have such trouble with in ten seconds.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raised and he nodded. “No, you’re right, you could. You’d just have to find them, first.”

Barry’s eyes narrowed, his face turning serious. “Are you implying I can’t do detective work, Mr. Queen?”

“Mm. Not quite. I’m implying your team is amazing, your equipment is amazing, and your enemies tend to give you key scientific strategies to take them down, just by showing you their powers. The best I get is a couple of phone hacks and some database abuse. The rest is footwork.”

Barry sighed. He wasn’t wrong. Far greater than half his success as the Flash was because of the others at STAR Labs. “Okay. I’ll give you that one. I can’t do what I do alone. Neither of us can.”

Oliver signaled his agreement. “I started that way, you know.”

“Yeah? And how did that work out for you?” Barry’s grin was back with a vengeance.

There was a small shrug in response. “I’ve got a team now, don’t I?”

They laughed as their late lunch/early dinner continued. At some point, Oliver looked down at his watch. “Oh. It’s after four. We should go. Wasn’t there another part of town you wanted me to see?”

Barry clicked his tongue. “This was fun, too. Oh, well. Time to go be adults.” He slapped himself awake and stood up from the table. “One last place I know to show you.”

Oliver bowed his head and gestured for Barry to take the lead. “After you, then, Mr. Allen.”

“What a gentleman.” Barry couldn’t help but give Oliver a playful grin as he passed by.

 

Patrolling that night was a breeze. Barry could hardly remember another night so devoid of police calls, let alone any surprise meta attacks or big gang busts. He’d made his third round before deciding to take a load off atop the Kord Industries building. It had a nice rooftop garden with reclining chairs that Barry liked to relax in and stare up at the sky late at night. You couldn’t see the stars even on a clear night with so much light pollution below, but you _could_ see the city reflecting off the surface of the water. It was Barry’s favorite part of this particular vantage point.

Somewhere around eleven, Cisco buzzed into Barry’s ear. “Hey. Oliver called the Cortex. He could use your help over in the Wickerville area.”

Barry sat up. “Did he find the guy he’s looking for?”

“No clue. He just said there’s a small army of thugs he’d rather not waste time with.” Cisco hesitated for a second, then added, “He also said he could handle it if you couldn’t help.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Of course he did. Let him know I’m coming. It’ll take me a minute or two to get there from here, so have him stay hidden.”

“Roger that.”

Barry dashed over the edge of the building and rocketed down to street level before whipping east and making a beeline for the Wickerville area. This part of town wasn’t known for gang activity; just drug busts and money laundering. Tonight, Barry could sense something was different as he closed in. Few vehicles roamed the nearby streets, and even fewer people were under the street lamps or in the shady back alleys. Wickerville felt almost deserted.

Cisco tossed Oliver’s location to Barry, who modified his path to meet up with the archer. Within seconds, he was crouching down behind an antique Ford truck that could probably fetch a pretty penny at auction, opposite the suited up Green Arrow. On the far side of the vehicle was a large, decrepit building. It looked like an old auto garage that had fallen into hard times about twenty years back. This didn’t surprise Barry, because of how little the city tended to care about Wickerville or areas like it.

Two miniscule scars on Barry’s back reminded him to case the scene before jumping into action. He peeked through the truck and saw at least five armed thugs within view, scattered amongst doorways and garages. “There’s about a dozen guys guarding a meeting in those trees,” Oliver whispered. “I want to know what’s going on in there, but they’re spaced out in a way that I can’t take out one without everyone seeing.”

“You can’t get much closer without spooking the whole operation,” Barry noted. “One stray bullet and they’re outta here.”

“Exactly. That’s why I need your help,” Oliver replied. He dug into the array of flechettes on his leg and handed Barry a specially modified one. “It’s an audio relay. I need it in the room where the meeting is going down, but I can’t get in there. I was hoping you could maybe phase through and set it inside. I can provide a small distraction to create a window for you to get in without being seen.”

Barry kept a loose grip on the flechette and nodded. He could easily get in and out, but no small number of guards, and possibly the big wigs inside, would see his lightning and issue a warning. All hell would break loose. He needed to go the discreet path - phasing through a wall was a bit stealthier than lighting up like a Christmas tree.

But something nagged at Barry about this. “So, why not just take out the guys inside, if they’re so important?”

Oliver shook his head, his mouth a tight line. “As much as I want to, I can’t. One of them is connected to the guy I’m after. I need to more information about his operation here. He’s one of the best leads I’ve got. If I take him in, I’m back to square one.”

“I got you. You can count on me.”

“See that guard on the corner?” Oliver asked, pointing. He wasn’t hard to miss. “If we can get him to go around the corner, you’ll have the best opportunity to phase inside right there. As far as I can tell, the meeting should be taking place in the office, which is right _next to_ where you’ll phase in.”

Barry took a deep breath. “I got this. How do we get him to go around the corner?”

Oliver grinned. He took a medium-sized rock from under the truck and lobbed it perpendicular to the building, landing it within earshot of the corner guard. He threw two more in almost perfectly repeated trajectories, emulating the sound of approaching footsteps. The guard would ignore a single thump on the ground, but three?

As expected, the guard turned toward the source of the noise, his gun at the ready. He cautiously made his way around the building, leaving a wide area of this side of the building unguarded. Barry channeled his speed and watched for the opportunity to run up to the building, when none of the guards on this side of the facility were looking his way.

_There!_

Barry shot forward and through the exposed wall before the other guards could see him. In less than a second, he was encased in darkness, stuck behind a stack of old, smelly tires someone had forgotten to sell off. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He saw two guards in the garage section of the building, but neither of them were looking his way - there was no reason to, after all; guards were in front of every opening on his side of the building. Barry crept out from behind the tires and over to the office door. He could hear voices inside, but he couldn’t make anything out from his position. He noticed the office had a window for dealing with customers, which was Barry’s best way of knowing where to drop Oliver’s relay.

Peeking into the office, Barry saw two gnarled men in business suits standing with their hands behind their backs as they talked. The lighting in the room was awful, making Barry’s job that much easier. He returned to the end of the room, near the door, and took out the relay flechette. Placing his hand close to the ground in the corner of the room, he phased his hand and the flechette through the wall, setting it on the floor inside the room in a dark corner, then withdrew his hand.

It was done. Now to get out.

Barry knew he couldn’t just speed out the way he came - that guard was no doubt in position again. With that option off the table, there was only one way to go.

Barry made sure the guards inside weren’t looking at the office before he dashed up the wall and up, through the ceiling and up onto the roof. He landed as lightly as he could, hoping any noise he made could be interpreted as a squirrel or something similar. He snuck to the edge of the building and waved down toward the truck he’d hidden behind before, hoping Oliver was paying attention.

Lucky for Barry, he was. Oliver performed an encore of his rock throwing trick at the opposite corner of the building, allowing Barry to drop down to the ground without alerting any guards. He dashed out of sight and rounded the complex to grab Oliver and head to safety.

“Did it work?” Barry asked once they were well out of danger.

“Ask Cisco.”

“We are a-go on one audio signal,” Cisco said with an obvious grin in his voice.

“Looks like it worked,” Barry relayed. “Cisco, are you recording?”

“We sure are. Mission accomplished, by my math.”

Oliver sighed. “Thanks, Barry. I probably could have done it without you, but I figured you were bored.” He grinned and patted Barry’s shoulder.

Barry grinned right back. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“I didn’t have any other plans for tonight,” Oliver admitted. “How was your patrol?”

“Slow. I was bored,” Barry said with a shrug. “You saved me, man.”

“Glad to hear it. Want to head back to STAR Labs, then?”

“Yeah? And do what? It’s almost midnight.”

Oliver just shook his head with a smirk. “We’re vigilantes, Barry. Midnight might as well be six in the evening.”

“Correction: _you’re_ a vigilante. _I’m_ a superhero.” He patted Oliver on the back as they turned towards STAR Labs. “I could hook us up with a projector and some classic action flicks. I could get away with one before I have to call it a night.”

“Movie night? Really?”

Barry turned off his comms for a moment. “Cisco and Thawne did it all the time.”

Oliver considered this, then smiled. “Sure. Why not? Got popcorn?”

“Do we have popcorn,” Barry said with a laugh. “Remind me to show you Cisco’s stash when we get back.”

Laughing, Barry grabbed Oliver and sped him off into the night, ready for a little downtime.

 

The next day, Barry entered the Cortex only to discover Oliver and Cisco intently studying a computer screen. Neither of them seemed to notice his entrance. Intrigued, Barry rounded the console and took a look. On the monitor was a list of dozens of names and addresses, complete with mugshot of several. Cisco scrolled through the list until Oliver pointed.

“There.”

Cisco backed up and selected one - a man named Michael Berringer. That name was familiar to Barry, but he couldn’t quite place it. Was it from the precinct?

“Michael Berringer,” Cisco read aloud, “convicted of several armed robberies just over twenty years ago, but he busted out of Iron Heights before their security upgrade in the late nineties. Took a few of his prison crew with him, and dropped off the grid. There were sightings in Coast city through the aughties, but nothing since 2010.”

Oliver crossed his arms, his head low in thought. “Nothing? Did he go by any aliases?”

“Wait.” Barry turned to another console and opened up the CCPD database. “Berringer went off the grid, but the guys he escaped with didn’t.” Barry pulled up a different profile. “Barty McKenzie and Paul Morrilton were arrested a few years ago after suddenly being caught in Central City. McKenzie hung himself in prison, but Morrilton’s still in Iron Heights.”

Cisco cocked an eyebrow. “Very nice, CSI Allen. How’d you catch that?”

“I recognized the name Berringer from McKenzie’s interrogation,” Barry explained. “That was one of my first investigations as an actual CSI. I was technically still training at the time.”

Oliver nodded, his face stern. “Can you get me an interview with Morrilton?”

“Not without a reason or court order,” Barry said, shaking his head. “Last I heard, he was moved to the maximum security sector. Only family and legal counsel can see those inmates without documentation.”

There was a lull in the conversation as Oliver considered this. “We could probably forge the papers if Felicity were available,” he muttered, “but she isn’t. Cisco, can you-”

“Waaaay ahead of you.” Cisco punched a final key and grinned. “There’s now a court order pending review and awaiting one Joe West to have a chat with Morrilton.”

“Thanks.” Oliver patted Barry on the shoulder and gave him a warm smile. “Nice catch, Barry.” Barry grinned back, like he’d won some unseen prize.

“You should be able to see Morrilton by tomorrow, as long as we can get Joe in on this,” Cisco announced. “Oh, and Oliver, don’t ever doubt my abilities again. Felicity may be your Girl Friday, but I’m not too bad around the dark web, myself.”

Oliver nodded with a pleased smirk. “Noted. Thanks, Cisco.”

Cisco raised an eyebrow and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did you just _thank_ me? Like, with a smile? Sort of? What is that, I guess that’s a smile? A smirk, really. A happy smirk.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raised in an attempt to draw Cisco’s eyes to his own. His expression softened a little, and he looked like he was holding back a laugh. “Cisco? Calm down.”

Barry snickered. Cisco wasn’t used to Oliver like he was. What everyone else saw as dark, tormented, and broody, Barry saw as cautious, observant, and thoughtful. Oliver had emotions other than anger, same as everyone else, even if there weren’t many people who were lucky enough to witness them.

“I’ll see what else I can dredge up on these guys,” Cisco said, turning back to his display. “Come find me in an hour or so and we’ll compare notes.”

Oliver actually smiled, although Cisco wasn’t turned to see it. “Thanks.” He looked over at Barry, his eyes asking to walk with him. Barry obliged, and soon they were in the hallway near the Time Vault, heading back to Oliver’s lab. “Thanks, Barry. You just saved me hours of trying to find a connection.”

“No big deal. It was pretty much all luck,” Barry admitted with a shrug.

“No, it wasn’t. You’re observant,” Oliver replied, patting Barry on the back as they walked. “The CCPD is lucky to have you, and so am I.”

“Careful, Ollie, that sounded an awful lot like a compliment,” Barry said with a laugh. “You just gave one to Cisco, too. People are going to think you’re losing your edge.”

“Let ‘em.” Oliver stopped outside his lab and gave Barry the kindest smile he’d seen - from anybody - in weeks. He couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you bring out the best in me, Barry. If that means I give out some positive reinforcement while I’m staying here, that’s fine by me.”

“Do you need anything before I head back to the precinct? Lunch is almost over,” Barry asked.

Oliver shook his head, his expression content. “I think I’m good. Thanks for the offer. I need to get back to my research.”

Barry pointed a finger at Oliver’s face from a safe distance. “Okay, but don’t forget to take a break.”

“Alarm is already set,” Oliver replied, a chuckle building in his chest. “I’ll talk to you later, Barry. Maybe we could watch another movie tonight before patrol?”

Barry shrugged. “Sure. It’s a nice way to kick off the tension of work before going out.” He waved at Oliver, who slid into his lab with a grin, before turning back the way he’d come.

As Barry dashed back to the precinct, he ran through a list in his head of movies to break out that evening. Last night had been an action film - maybe a comedy tonight?


	3. High Rollers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Oliver continue tracking down the dangerous criminals threatening the peace of Central City. Meanwhile, Oliver starts _noticing_ how kind Barry is to him.

Between the familiar faces of crooks he’d sent away and the fact that his father had been wrongfully imprisoned within its walls for over a decade, Barry didn’t much care for Iron Heights. When Oliver had approached him about getting inside, the CSI had displayed no small amount of hesitation. He almost managed to say no, but the pleading eyes of his friend had melted his resolve on the spot, and soon Barry was agreeing to assist. After all the work Cisco had gone through to get Joe in, it was the least he could do to be Oliver’s eyes and ears.

The security was as stalwart as expected, but Joe and Barry were allowed in without more than a cursory scan due to their employment status (and familiarity with the staff considering Barry’s father). This was good news, since a pulse from a metal detector would have likely fried their ear pieces then and there. It didn’t take long for them to be presented with Paul Morrilton in a private room with guards stationed outside. A video camera watched the scene in the corner of the ceiling, but Barry knew their conversation wouldn’t be recorded, thanks to Cisco’s court order.

Morrilton was pale, with scraggly blonde hair that had long since receded. His nose was too big for his face and his eyes were sunken in, secondary to incarceration. He was in decent shape physically, looking like he regularly used the weights in the recreational area and never skimped on meal time. As the two entered, he didn’t even bother to look at them.

“Mr. Morrilton,” Joe said, straightening his jacket as he sat down across the the inmate. A blank stare was his response. “This is my associate Mr. Allen. We had some questions we were hoping you’d answer for us.”

“What’s in it for me?” Morrilton asked, his voice husky and low.

Joe gaved Barry a tired look before answering. “We got you out of your cell for a while.”

“And into one with a two-way mirror. Gee. Good job.”

Barry leaned forward and gave Morrilton a stern gaze. It was barely even noticed. “We were hoping to get anything you might know on Michael Berringer.”

Morrilton leaned to the side and gave Barry a lazy side-eye. “Everything came out at my trial. Look up the records. Can I go now?”

Oliver’s voice rang into Barry’s ear. “Mention the name Carmilla Vasquez.”

Barry followed the cue. “Who’s Carmilla Vasquez?”

Morrilton perked up and his gaze darkened as he locked eyes with Barry. “What about Millie?”

“She’s working with Berringer,” Barry replied, repeating what Oliver fed him.

Anger contorted Morrilton’s face. “No way. She’d never line up with that jackass. What’s your source?”

Joe leaned back and crossed his arms as Barry leaned further forward. “We’ve got a verbal statement from Berringer we’re following up on.”

Morrilton’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No.”

“He mentioned her name for his next weapons deal.”

“No!” Morrilton yanked at the cuffs locking him to the table several times. “No, no, no! Get me out of here! She doesn’t belong here! She can’t be-”

“Now wait,” Joe said, standing up. Morrilton stopped to glare up at him. “We can protect Millie. She hasn’t done anything that we know of, yet. You give us Berringer’s favorite hangout, we will try to get her out of there safely.”

“Uh. The reservoir drainage pipes on the south side of the city,” Morrilton gasped, thinking. “That’s where he had us meet him most of the time.”

“I checked that place already,” Oliver said.

Barry shook his head. “It’s clean. Anywhere else?”

Morrilton put his head in his hands. He was visibly shaking. Barry filed away the need to ask just who Millie Vasquez was for later.

“The old Newman Iron Mill on South Banner Road.”

Oliver. “Clean.”

“Abandoned,” Barry said.

“I don’t know anywhere else, man.” Morrilton looked up from his hands, tears lining his eyes. “Please. You gotta find ‘em. Get her out of there.”

“Do you have _any_ ideas on where else he could set up camp?” Joe asked.

Morrilton shook his head, his lip quivering as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I don’t-”

“Anything at all will help,” Barry said, his voice gentle and steady. “Meeting places. Even places he went between jobs.”

“Between jobs?” Morrilton sat up a little straighter. “Wait. The man was a big gambler. Half our jobs were him trying to pay off a debt.”

“Did he have a favorite venue?” Joe asked.

Morrilton thought for a moment. “The Marigold Hotel. He was there almost every night he wasn’t overseeing a job.”

Joe nodded. “We’ve busted more than one gangster there, but not recently. Think he’d still hang out there two years later?”

“He hated shaking things up,” Morrilton answered. He looked Barry dead in the eye. “You get Millie out of that bastard’s grip, you hear me?”

“We will do what we can,” Barry said with a curt nod. “I promise.”

The two visitors made their way out of the room, leaving Morrilton to watch them leave with what could only be called hope shining in his eyes. Not hope for himself - that ship had sailed - but for Millie.

As Joe led the way out of the prison, Barry asked, “So, casino job?”

There was an audible smile in Oliver’s voice. “Looks that way.”

“Is this Millie girl an innocent we need to worry about?” Joe asked.

There was a pause from Oliver’s end, which made Barry nervous. “Millie died in an altercation in Star City last year. A drug bust.”

Barry sighed. “So you made me promise something I couldn’t keep.”

“I didn’t make you say those things, Barry. If I’d known you were going to promise that, I would have told you about her before.”

“Still feels like I just lied,” Barry muttered.

“Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

Once they had performed all necessary check-out tasks and had vacated the prison, Barry asked, “So was that a lie that about her name being on the recording?”

“That wasn’t a lie. Berringer codenames his jobs after people he worked with in the past. ‘Millie’ was what he named his next weapons smuggling operation. It took me all night to find out who he was talking about.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “If he codenames his jobs, what was the name of the job where Millie died?”

Oliver was silent.

Barry’s breath caught for a moment. “Ollie?”

“Morrilton.”

 

“I still don’t understand why we’re infiltrating a casino when you could have just spooked Berringer at the tire shop,” Barry said as he adjusted his bowtie in the bathroom mirror. He had to look the part for the job, and the job screamed “high roller,” so tux, it was. He and Oliver had made a pit stop at Barry’s apartment to prepare for the mission.

“I needed him comfortable. Careless,” Oliver replied from the bedroom. “Plus, I didn’t want to tip off the other gang he met with that night. They’re involved. I’ll be going after Ericson later.”

Barry grimaced. “Ericson? Thomas Ericson, mob boss?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“He’s been on CCPD’s wanted list for ages. I don’t think we’ve ever even had a lead on him, let alone a recorded conversation. How did you-”

There was a chuckle from the other room. “Trade secret.”

“You about ready?” Barry asked. He moved from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped in his tracks behind Oliver.

Oliver’s tux seemed custom made to fit him, with all the right curves and accents adhering to his body. He somehow looked more dashing than usual in the mirror as he adjusted his cumberbund.

Barry scowled. “Damn! That’s not even fair!”

“Huh? What isn’t?” Oliver asked as he checked the lengths of his sleeves.

Barry made a wild gesture at Oliver’s whole being. “All _this._ How can you get more handsome just by putting on a tux?”

Oliver looked at Barry over his shoulder, an amused smirk on his face. “What?”

“You’re perfect, that’s what,” Barry said, more aggressively than he’d intended.

A slight pinkish tint crept into Oliver’s cheeks and he cleared his throat before turning back to the mirror.

Barry looked at the man’s reflection and shook his head. “Nope. Come here.”

“What?”

Barry turned Oliver toward him and reached up to adjust his bow-tie. Oliver stood perfectly still, his lips a tight line and his eyes alert, tracking every movement Barry’s arms made until they pulled away from him.

“There,” Barry said. He chuckled as he brushed off one of Oliver’s shoulders. “You practically grew up in a tux, I have no idea how you don’t know how to straighten a bow-tie.”

“My parents would do it for me while I was growing up,” Oliver said. He turned away from Barry, but there was a flash of a smile somewhere in there. “Thanks.”

“Sure. So. What’s the plan?”

Oliver checked his duffle bag to make sure his gear was all present. “You know how to count cards, right?”

Barry considered this. “It’s been a while, but yeah, I think so.”

“I can fix dice rolls. We lose enough to stay under the radar until we find Berringer. Follow him out and track him.”

“Then pay a visit to him with your little pointy friends?”

“That’s the idea.”

Barry smoothed out the front of his tux jacket. “Sounds good. Are we ready to go?”

Oliver fell into thought, standing over the bed with his bag. “This feels so delicate. I want to just barge in and take them all out.”

“If you do that, you won’t see Berringer’s hideout,” Barry reminded him. “That’s the whole point of this operation, right?”

“Yeah. I need as many names and faces on this operation as I can manage, and that means going easy on them for now.”

Barry clapped a supportive hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Then let’s do this the right way.”

“Right.”

 

The casino was bustling, to say the least. It was the middle of the week, but people were flooding the high roller tables like there was no tomorrow and champagne freely flowed from the bartender and waitstaff. It wasn’t until the two of them stood on the game floor that Barry realized just how fancy this place was.

“I had no idea Central City had a place like this,” Barry muttered as Oliver settled in at the craps table.

“Just remember why you’re there,” Cisco said over the comms. “Get eyes on the guy and tail him. You need to win enough to stay relevant, but lose enough to keep attention off of you.”

Barry sighed as he moved to a high stakes blackjack table. “Hey, ladies and gentlemen, mind if I sit in?”

“Depends. Can you pony up?” a haughty woman in what was probably a real mink coat asked.

Barry slammed a stack of chips on the table equating fifty grand. He gave the woman a playful side-eye, and she nodded. “Deal him in. Let’s see what he’s got.”

The first few hands went well enough - Barry managed to scrape the first hand on sheer luck and let the second hand bust. The woman to his left sneered at him at such an early loss, but he won the next three hands, stumping her. Another intentional loss allowed Barry to scan the room while conveying his disappointment.

There was a cheer from Oliver’s table that involved Oliver pumping his fist in the air. Barry smirked in amusement, watching Oliver glance around in celebration. Their eyes met and they both shook their heads. No Berringer yet.

Barry felt a tap on his arm from the gentleman to his left, bringing his attention back to his game. “Oh. Sorry. Wishing I was that guy over at the craps table.”

The snide woman on his right glanced over at Oliver and snickered. It was a most unpleasant sound. “I don’t blame you, dear. That man is a tall drink of water if I’ve ever seen one.”

Despite being annoyed by her very existence, Barry chuckled. He’d have to regale Oliver of that one later.

“Deal me in.”

Their table was joined by a portly and musty middle-aged man with a sharp nose and beady little eyes. Barry almost did a double take as the mugshot from the CCPD archives popped into his head.

_Berringer._

“I’m feeling good about tonight,” the newcomer squawked as he put eighty grand on the line for the next hand. Barry leaned forward, searching Berringer’s face for details from his seat. He didn’t seem stressed. He was almost at ease for someone who was trying to win the funds for paying someone else back.

Barry turned back to the game, making sure to play close to Berringer’s record. After the shock of an unintentional loss, he focused harder on staying around. He left when Berringer left, and no sooner.

The night persisted, with Berringer and Barry sticking to the table far longer than anyone else. At long last, Berringer called it in. It was a relief for Barry, who was concerned his ratio was beginning to gather suspicion.

Their mark got up from the table and headed toward the attendant to cash out, while Barry lost one last big gamble. Feigning disappointment, he got up from the table and made his way over to the craps table, where Oliver was prepping for a roll.

“Time to go,” Barry hissed.

Oliver nodded, shaking the dice in his hands.

“Go? But Mr. Queen has been living it up over here,” a busty redhead chimed from Oliver’s other elbow.

Barry cocked his head at her, his eyebrows raised. “Has he now?” He leaned into Oliver’s ear and said, just loud enough for the redhead to hear, “Come along, babe, I won big and I want to celebrate.”

The dice dropped onto the table from near Oliver’s face, which burned red. They landed on snake eyes. The table moaned. Oliver, however, just stared at Barry with somewhat wide eyes, staring hard at his friend in some kind of shock.

“Ollie?” Barry raised an eyebrow. “You okay? We gotta go.”

Oliver shook himself out of it and nodded. “Right. Uh. ‘Babe.’ Let’s go.”

As they excused themselves from the tables, Barry noticed the deep tinge in Oliver’s cheeks. He smiled, despite himself. It was nice to know that Oliver Queen could be flustered like people with normal human emotions.

The two retreated to the front of the store. As they exited, Oliver peeled off to snag the duffle bag he’d stashed near the entrance while Barry followed Berringer to the valet station. As the valet brought Berringer’s vehicle around, Barry bumped into the man and attached a tracker on the inside hem of his jacket, where he wouldn’t notice it. Barry gave his apologies without looking as he walked to the next valet attendant. As soon as the car pulled around and Berringer sat down, there was a whistling noise as another tracker was fired from a shadowy alleyway, sticking onto the car’s rear bumper as it pulled away.

Barry looked over at the alley where Oliver stood, mostly hidden by shadows, the bow in his hands. He nodded to Barry, who grinned and gave a half-hidden thumbs up. Mission accomplished.

“We’ve got two live trackers,” Cisco announced over comms. “Come on back boys, I’ve got _Star Wars_ waiting with some popcorn.”

“Which one?” Oliver asked.

Cisco sounded almost hurt. “Was that meant to imply we don’t watch all of them?”

Barry sighed, but smiled. “No _Phantom Menace.”_

“Deal. Get back here.”

 

Somewhere between _Attack of the Clones_ and _A New Hope,_ Oliver had to call it quits. He retreated to his lab for some quiet, unable to deal with Cisco quoting entire scenes at a time. Not one to idle, however, Oliver reviewed the audio from the tire shop meeting once more before he heard a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” Oliver called.

The door crept open to reveal Barry in the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face. “Couldn’t take the quoting, huh?”

“You know, I tried,” Oliver chuckled. “I really did.”

Barry moved to sit in a chair across the table from him. “Yeah. Watching movies with Cisco is an acquired skill.”

“Acquired taste?”

“That, too.”

They lapsed into silence as Oliver reviewed a list of names he’d pulled from the CCPD database surrounding Berringer. When Barry didn’t say anything, Oliver looked over to see him staring at him with mild concern lining his face. His heart skipped a beat. “Something on your mind, Barry?”

Barry shrugged. “No. Just, are you really okay staying here?”

“Of course. I told you, I don’t need a fancy bed. Most days, I don’t need a bed at all.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Oliver hitched an eyebrow at the speedster. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ve even been eating on time like we agreed.”

Barry wiggled his nose with a rolling smirk. “And that’s cool, but maybe you should sleep in a bed once in a while. Keep your strength up.”

“Sleep is sleep, Barry.”

“Except it isn’t.” Barry said. “Come over tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch, and you get some well-deserved shut eye in a bed. Just once.”

Oliver’s jaw tightened as he realized his heart was picking up speed. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Barry-”

“Please, Ollie?”

 _Don’t look at him._ Oliver met Barry’s gaze and immediately cursed himself. Barry’s eyes were genuinely concerned, boring into Oliver’s like hearing rejection would crush everything he was. Oliver sighed and closed his eyes, willing his heart to calm down. What was it about Barry that made his heart do such acrobatics?

“Fine. But just tonight.”

Barry grinned, sending Oliver’s stomach into a front flip. “Great. If you’re hungry, I can even make you something-”

“The bed’s enough, Barry. Thanks.”

“Oh. Sure.” Barry’s grin persisted. Oliver continued cursing himself when he noticed.

Barry rounded the table to look at the screen Oliver had pulled up. “That’s a list of known accomplices?”

“People in Berringer’s pocket, yeah,” Oliver replied, relieved to be talking about something else now. “A lot of these people are businessmen and people of influence who have done some pretty terrible things to their communities over the years. People I would have put an arrow in my first year back from the island.”

“I recognize some of these,” Barry said. “They pitch in for a lot of the CCPD’s fundraisers.”

“Just because they’re doing awful things doesn’t mean they _think_ they’re doing awful things,” Oliver pointed out. “And they probably think helping the police makes what they do to their constituents more tolerable.”

“Think any of them are up to chat?” Barry asked.

“I’m beyond that point,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “This list isn’t the important part. But _this_ list,” he said, pointing to a second monitor, “is a list of people with known gang-related records that Berringer has been in contact with over the past few years.”

Barry narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Gang wars? In Central City?”

“More likely than you think. Take a look at this.” Oliver pulled up a news database highlighting gang violence in the past three years. Barry looked them over as Oliver explained. “The Flash has been keeping the major criminals at bay, but gang-on-gang crimes are on the rise. Innocents aren’t involved, so the CCPD and STAR Labs haven’t been picking up on it.”

“We only act based on police reports and comms most of the time,” Barry said. “If the police don’t care, we usually don’t hear about it until after the fact.”

“Exactly.” Another article, this time about weapons smuggling in Star City and Coast City. “Berringer has been working with other cities’ gang leaders to amass tons of military-grade weapons over the past two years, but all from the shadows. The meeting the other night just confirmed that.”

“Does this have something to do with the guy you’re chasing down?” Barry asked.

“He did something similar in Star City,” Oliver replied. “I put a stop to a lot of his black market deals, but somehow he managed to get enough pull to start up the same game here.”

Barry leaned back, his expression clouded in thought. “You think Berringer is working for him?”

“I know it. But until we see some evidence from Berringer’s side of things, I can’t move in on him.”

Cisco piped in over the intercom. “Barry? Oliver? We’ve got a stable location on the tracking devices.”

Barry shrugged. “Wanna go see?”

Oliver nodded.

They found Cisco poring over a computer terminal in the Cortex. He looked up and grinned as they approached.

“We’ve got a location,” he announced. “It doesn’t look like a base of operations to me. It’s probably where Berringer’s been staying.”

“What do you want to do?” Barry asked.

Oliver gave a smirk, which he suspected answered the question. But just for good measure, he said, “I think it’s time we had a chat with Berringer.”


	4. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Oliver interrogate their target, the mob boss Michael Berringer, before finally settling down for a much-needed rest. Maybe after that, Oliver will stop acting so weird around Barry...

It didn’t take long to reach the location Cisco identified as Berringer’s apartment, a penthouse suite atop the tallest building on the south side of the docks. It was a powerful location - the view from that height, in that part of town, would feel like a king on a throne overseeing his entire kingdom of the southern stretches in Central City. Barry felt a hot coal in his stomach just looking up at it from the street below.

He and Oliver had staked out the building from a mostly camouflaged spot in an abandoned drainage pipe masked by overgrowth. Thanks to their suits, in the dark of the early morning, no one would see them unless Barry channeled his power in a big way. They sat alert, receiving information feeds from Cisco as they surveyed the ground level.

“No cameras up top,” Cisco announced in their ears, “so I can’t give you a headcount on the roof, but I  _ can _ tell you that this place is pretty heavily guarded. I’m seeing a lot of defenses inside the building, and lots of guards scattered around. I think he’s even got some goons guarding his bedroom.”

“Do you have eyes on Berringer himself?” Oliver asked as he shifted his bow in his grip anxiously.

“I think so? He certainly doesn’t match the physical profile of any of his guards. Southwest corner of the building. Looks like he’s in a study of some kind.”

“There are armed guards at every entrance of the building down here,” Barry noted. “We’ll have to find a way up the building that doesn’t involve me lighting up our approach.”

“I could vibe you in.”

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m looking to scare Berringer into some info, and I need to do it my way if I expect the best results. We break in from outside.”

“Cool, cool. Let me know if you need an emergency exit.”

“Thanks, Cisco.” Oliver turned a serious eye to Barry. “So, you ready?”

“I’d say yes, but how are we getting up the building without anyone noticing?”

Oliver pointed halfway up the building, around the twentieth floor. “All the guards care about are the entrances, meaning no one will be looking up the side of the building. We just need to get up, out of normal line of sight, and you can run us the rest of the way up.”

“Okay, but there aren’t any other buildings tall enough to stage a tether from,” Barry observed. Indeed, Berringer’s building was almost twice as tall as any of the surrounding rooftops, making a grapple to the top of the building nearly impossible. Oliver’s arrows would only have about half that range with enough force to lodge into the building’s foundation with any hold.

“Just follow my lead.” Oliver shot Barry a confident smirk and waved him to follow. Without another word, he jumped out of hiding and hustled up to a nearby tree, his eyes fixated on the guards at the closest entrance. They were two streets over from their target - an easy trek.

Barry did his best to move quietly behind his cohort, the two of them making quick work of the distance from their hiding spot to the base of the building. They shimmied their way between some bushes at the corner of the first floor, making sure to watch for any patrolling guards on the way in. Barry watched Oliver nock an arrow and step back from the building, the tip pointed almost directly upwards.

“Clear,” Cisco said.

Oliver loosed the arrow, the light  _ twang _ of his bow sounding a little louder in the stark silence of the night than it probably was. Barry watched the arrow fly up the side of the building, lodging firmly about a quarter of the way up. Oliver grinned as he held out a hand to his co-conspirator.

“Grab on,” he said. 

Barry smiled back, but he wasn’t quite sure how to hang onto someone on a tether line. He wrapped his arm around Oliver’s shoulders. “This okay?”

“I’m not a metahuman, Barry. Hang on  _ tight.” _

Barry wrapped his other arm around the front of Oliver’s chest, essentially hugging the archer around the neck. He felt Oliver’s arm wrap around his waist firmly, the grip strong. In spite of himself, Barry smiled at this. He felt  _ safe _ in Oliver’s arm like this, despite the lack of immediate danger. Oliver placed his leg between Barry’s, entwining their ankles for extra resistance to any sliding weight. As a result, Barry was not only hugging him, but also straddling his leg.

“You should have bought me dinner first,” Barry chuckled.

He couldn’t see Oliver’s face, but he heard the smile in his voice. “I could just drop you halfway up, you know.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

A warm chuckle from near Barry’s ear. “No, I wouldn’t.”

For just a moment, they stood embraced like this in silence, waiting for Oliver to begin drawing on the tether. Barry felt a warmth build up in his chest and his cheeks as Oliver’s arm tightened around his waist for a split second.

“Uh, Ollie? We going?”

It was like Barry’s voice snapped Oliver out of a reverie. “Right. Hang on.”

The ground slipped out from under Barry’s feet as the tether pulled from a mechanism on Oliver’s suit. Barry had always wondered how it worked - he saw the tether feed into an automated pulley system just behind Oliver’s head, likely attached to a harness built into his suit. As the pulley worked, the two of them shot up the side of the building much faster than Barry had anticipated, considering their combined weight.

“Get ready to run as soon as we reach the arrow.”

Their ascent slowed as they encroached the twelfth floor. Barry glanced up the building and saw the tether’s end approaching quickly. He threaded himself away from Oliver’s leg and began running along the building, still depending on the tether’s power to help him accumulate velocity.

Ten feet.

Four feet.

_ Now! _

Barry channeled his speed, lightning crackling around his body and Oliver’s as his feet picked up the pace. As soon as Oliver grabbed the arrow out of the wall, he swung around and latched onto Barry’s shoulders from behind, making sure to keep his weight shifted toward the building as well as he could. The two of them rocketed up the side of the building, the pull of gravity teasing Barry’s heels and pulling at his shoulders via Oliver’s weight, but never truly taking hold of him.

Within a matter of seconds, they’d reached the floor beneath the penthouse suite. Barry shifted his weight and ran laterally across the building, rounding the southwest corner before reaching out with one hand into open air. Oliver let go of his shoulders and grabbed Barry’s outreached hand, using his momentum to swing out and up, over the speedster’s position and straight into the window overhead. The window gave way with a great clatter, leading the emerald archer into a somersault across the expensive-looking carpet now littered with shards of dangerous glass. As he finished his maneuver, he raised a nocked arrow to aim directly at the shocked expression of their target.

Berringer didn’t move, but two armed guards burst through the door to the study and leveled submachine guns at Oliver’s crouched form. Before they could pull the triggers, lightning filled the penthouse as Barry raced across the room, snatching the guns away and delivering quick, jaw-shattering blows to the goons. He came to a halt near Oliver, standing behind him with the guns emptied of ammo and tossed harmlessly to the side. The guards fell unconscious before Berringer could even stand up.

“Michael Berringer,” Oliver growled, slowly standing to his feet. The guttural way he spoke sent a chill down Barry’s spine.

Berringer’s face was pale, with wide, scared eyes and sweat already beading on his forehead. His hands were raised in surrender, shaking alongside his shallow breaths.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice similarly shaky.

“Where is Shirou Fujimura?”

Barry’s eyes nearly grew to match the shocked expression on Berringer’s face.  _ That _ was who Oliver was hunting? He shook it off - he’d inquire about Fujimura later.

“H-How do you know about him?” Berringer’s voice was very different than the cocky high roller Barry recalled from the casino.

“Answer the question,” Oliver shouted, the string on his bow drawing back an inch or two more.

“I don’t know where he is!” Berringer shouted back, burying his head in his hands. “I only know where I send money to his contact.” He started sobbing into his hands. “He hasn’t talked with me directly since his men found me a month ago and took over my operations.”

Barry reached out and put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, who relaxed his bow. “You’re being extorted,” Barry said, his voice steady and calm.

Berringer just nodded, not looking up.

“I can’t feel sorry for you,” Barry continued with a shrug, “but we want to help.”

Oliver gave him an uneasy side-eye, but Barry nodded.

Berringer looked up, confused. “You want to help me? But-”

“We’ll be back for you after we get your boss,” Barry offered, “but at least you’ll have a head start. After all, we can’t arrest you now, or we’ll tip off Fujimura and he’ll run.”

Berringer’s confusion evolved into suspicion. “You’d really do that?”

“I can always make it harder for you to run,” Oliver growled, pointing an arrow at Berringer’s leg.

“Okay, okay!” Berringer pulled his leg away from Oliver’s aim. “What do you want to know?”

“If you can’t tell me where Fujimura is leading his operation from, I need names or a trail I can follow to get to him,” Oliver replied, his voice still growling, but softer. “How many generals are there?”

“Generals?” Barry raised an eyebrow under his cowl. “Like an army?”

Oliver grunted agreement without looking back at him.

“Two in Central City,” Berringer replied, his voice shaky. “I mean besides me.”

“Names,” Oliver growled.

“Thomas Ericson and Rajan Amadji.”

“Amadji is on Interpol’s wanted list for drug and human trafficking,” Cisco announced through the comms. “I’m looking into warrants out for his arrest locally, but I’m not finding anything.”

“Where can I find them?” Oliver asked, aggression tinting his words.

Berringer cringed, as if giving out this information was physically painful. “Ericson holed himself up on the north side of town in the old shut down industrial park, and Amadji runs a brothel in Coast City. I don’t know where he set up here in Central, but he goes back there a lot.”

“What other leads can you give on Fujimura?” Oliver asked, finally lowering his bow to his side.

Berringer relaxed a little, but shook his head. “I have to send money through a fake account at Central City National Bank.” He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a slip of paper with some numbers scrawled across it. “Here’s the account number.” He tossed it lazily at the duo, the paper flitting to the floor just as lazily. “I don’t know anything else about his operation, other than the fact that he bought out over half my men and made them steal most of my stock. He’s just been using me and mine as an ATM.”

Oliver recovered the slip of paper and nodded. “Keep up appearances with Fujimura, or he might kill you.”

“Right.”

“And don’t tip Fujimura off about me, or  _ I _ might kill you,” Oliver added as he turned toward the gaping hole in the glass wall.

Berringer cleared his throat. “R-Right.”

Barry gave Berringer a little two-finger salute. “We’ll be back after we take down Fujimura. I guess you have until then to get out of town.”

“Wait. Arrow.”

Oliver stopped and turned to halfway face Berringer.

“Fujimura isn’t working alone. I don’t know who he’s working with, but he’s getting resources from all over. Stuff I’ve never even  _ considered _ moving. I only tell you this so you’re prepared to face it, so he’ll stop lording his little army over me.”

Without a word, Oliver aimed his bow out the broken window and tethered to a nearby rooftop. He descended the wire silently, leaving Barry alone in the room with their target.

“Thanks,” Barry said with a smirk. Lightning flashed and he was gone, leaving Berringer sweating in his chair in complete solitude.

 

The sun was beginning to rise as Oliver and Barry approached Barry’s apartment in civilian clothes, bags draped over their shoulders. They’d rushed back to STAR Labs, but had only stayed long enough to update Cisco and Oliver’s records of their findings before heading out. The air was crisp for a summer morning, bringing goosebumps to Barry’s exposed arms.

“Kinda chilly this morning,” he muttered, looking over at Oliver. He seemed at home in the cold; despite being in a short-sleeved shirt himself, Oliver didn’t seem bothered at all. “Aren’t you cold?” He reached over and ran a hand along Oliver’s forearm, looking for any signs that he was suffering, too. He didn’t feel any in the split second it took for Oliver to pull his arm away, confusion dancing across his face.

“I don’t get cold, Barry, I told you that.” Oliver loosened up his shoulders as they approached the apartment building.

“Sorry.” Was Oliver  _ jumpy? _ Something was bothering him, just not the weather.

They arrived at the apartment without another incident, where Oliver collapsed on the couch while Barry made them something to drink.

“I might not be able to sleep at all, with the sun coming up,” Oliver muttered from somewhere in the living room.

Barry smiled. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.” He thought for a moment. “Slash night.”

“I appreciate you opening your apartment to me, Barry. Are you sure I’m not inconveniencing you?”

Barry appeared at the end of the couch with a cup of tea for himself and a small glass of whiskey for Oliver. He handed over the drink as he sat down at the opposite end of the sofa. “The only way you’ll inconvenience me is refusing to take the bed.”

Oliver’s features hardened a little. It was obvious he wasn’t entirely comfortable with that. Or was it more he wasn’t comfortable with being told where to sleep? “If I have to, I suppose, but I promise I’d be fine on the couch.”

“I told you before: you need sleep in a bed every once in a while, Ollie.” He took a sip of his tea. “No buts.”

A small chuckle escaped Oliver’s lips, piquing Barry’s curiosity. “What’s so funny?”

Oliver shook his head, smiling. “Not a damn thing.” He looked over and gave Barry a warm smile. “I’m just taking note of how lucky I am to have someone care so much about me, that’s all.”

Barry swallowed his tea hard, but it went down wrong. He started coughing, pitching forward to help clear his lungs. He felt Oliver’s hand on his back and his face reddened even further than caused by the coughing.

When the coughing ebbed, Oliver laughed. “Was it something I said?”

His hand was still firmly placed on the center of Barry’s back. “N-No, I just swallowed wrong.”

“Maybe you should try swallowing right this time.”

Barry choked back a laugh, suddenly aware of the fact that Oliver had moved to be seated directly next to him in order to pat him on the back. Their knees were touching.

“Right. Uh.” Barry stood up and took his tea into the kitchen. “So, what’s the next step in your little hunt?”

Oliver sighed and fell back into the couch. “Can we not think about it for now?” He ran his hands down his face. “I really just need some rest.”

There was some clinking from the kitchen as Barry set things down. “Yeah, sure,” he said. His voice was strained, like he was distracted.

“Time for bed?” Oliver asked.

“I think so, yeah. Let me get a blanket and pillow for the couch and my bed will be yours.”

Oliver sighed, smiling to himself. He really didn’t see the point of this whole “sleeping in a bed” mentality Barry had, but it was endearing. He really was trying his best to help Oliver, however he could.

Barry appeared in the living room with a big pillow and a fluffy looking blanket, his face ragged, but content. He had changed into a large lounging shirt with a  _ gigantic _ Flash emblem across the front and had shucked his slacks in the other room. “Alright, buddy. Get your firmly sculpted butt offa my couch.”

“I didn’t know you looked,” Oliver joked, standing up. As he traded places with Barry, he felt the warmth in his cheeks. Was the whisky that strong, or did Barry saying something about his butt  _ actually _ embarrass him? That didn’t seem like him at all.

“It’s hard not to,” Barry admitted offhandedly, clearly unfocused as he kicked out across the couch and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “It’s a nice butt.” He turned to face the back of the couch, curling up and closing his eyes. This time it was Oliver that coughed, the heat rising even more into his face.

Barry’s next words were muffled by the blanket at his chin, but Oliver found himself paying exceedingly close attention to his words. “G’nite, Ollie.”

There was a bit of hesitation on Oliver’s part as he stood in the now-silent living room of Barry’s apartment, looking down at his friend’s peaceful attempt at slumber instead of moving to the bedroom like he was supposed to. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched Barry drifting off to sleep. Something about Barry’s features seemed accented in the rising sunlight, despite having curled up facing away from the window. With a little shrug, Oliver turned away from his friend and made his way to the bedroom.

Barry’s room was, as expected, a bit of a mess, with clothes strewn here and there, but at least his bed seemed clean and made, one pillow missing from the headboard. Oliver stripped to his boxers and slid under the covers after turning off the light, his body immediately collapsing into the soft mattress. He sighed, comfort enveloping his stiff muscles and relaxing him. He couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Barry was right - his bed seemed almost magical.

But alarms were going off in Oliver’s mind. What was that...that  _ smell? _

Oliver lifted himself to his elbows, looking around the sunrise-lit room. There was a weird...what…

...Oh.

Oliver fell back onto his back, embarrassment overtaking him. He rubbed his face, organizing his thoughts.

He was in Barry’s bedroom, in his bed, surrounded by his clothes and other belongings.

He was smelling Barry, and it was triggering something in his mind.

He  _ liked _ it.

“How the hell am I supposed to sleep like this?” He asked no one in particular. He rolled over onto his side, curling up into the bedsheets and remaining pillow, bathing in the somewhat sweet, somewhat spiced scent. He smiled a little to himself, knowing he would be able to sleep perfectly well. He’d deal with the implications of it all in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to update this story, but the inspiration of Olivarry Week 2019 helped me sit down and punch this out!
> 
> More to come!


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